The Little Old Lady from Lake St. Mary's

I have a hil-AR-ious story to share with you regarding my lovely grandmother, Nellie House. However, in order for you to really appreciate the story, you should get some background on Gramma Nell.

Let me think of how many harsh or unkind words I've heard Gramma say in our 28 years together. Ok, I'm done. Total count: 0.

Gramma's one of those people who demonstrate via actions what's important. I've never heard her tell me what she believes about God, but when asked to picture a godly person in my life, she's always at the head of the line.

My own mother's appreciation for nature must have come largely from Gramma Nell. She is always careful to conserve, recycle, compost, and make due.

Gramma in three words: gentle, kind, patient.

So, with this brief background, here's the story:

Sunday night I rode with my dad and stepmother to visit Gramma Nell at her duplex in a retirement center off Grand Lake St. Mary's. As the four of us sat in Gramma's living room, updating each other on the noteworthy going-ons in our lives, Gramma says, "I have a funny story to tell you."

It seems that a conversation came up between Gramma and a few of her neighbors regarding the speeds that their golf carts can reach. [sidenote: a few years back my grandparents traded in their car for a golf cart; a popular choice in this retirement community. Mostly the carts are used for transport back and forth to the building that holds meals and chapel services] Gramma apparently got to thinking about the varying speeds amongst their little fleet, and suggested that they conduct a simple experiment to determine which cart could go faster. Notice that sweet little Gramma Nell claims that she didn't INTEND to suggest a golf card drag race. Claims it with a straight face and I know I've never known her to tell a lie...

So it was decided that at 11am one morning she and a neighbor lady would race from the end of their road (Mallard Lane) to the bridge, a distance of a few hundred yards. A mutual friend of the competitors quietly told all the residents on Mallard about the race. So as they lined up at the end of the road to begin, they were looking down a column of residents. I certainly would have been there cheering with the others, given the chance...

As Gramma tells it, her competitor got a bit of a head-start, as she was on the same side of the road as the starter. "The noise got to her sooner," Gramma explained. But as it turned out, that little disadvantage didn't seem to matter in the end. To quote my quiet, godly, sweet grandmother on the results of the drag race, "I left her in the dust." This proclamation was delivered with the same straight face as the rest of the story.

Once Dad, Sue, and I recovered from our laughter sufficiently to breathe again, Gramma brought out her prize- a small bough of flowers. If I'm not mistaken, she was pretty darn proud of those flowers.

And rightfully so, Gramma! It's one every day that one octogenarian leaves another "in the dust" in a golf cart drag race. A well earned victory, indeed. :)

(Gramma Nell with her victory flowers)